


Shake It Off

by acciothirteen, lancecorporal



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at Humor, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:39:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2303543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciothirteen/pseuds/acciothirteen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lancecorporal/pseuds/lancecorporal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas owes Manu 25k for bailing him out of jail. His part-time bosses are ridiculous and in love - but mostly ridiculous. His roommate is a die-hard BVB fan. And to top it all off, his new professor is really hot.<br/>Really, what did he do to deserve this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Thomas

**Author's Note:**

> We're reposting this to a multiple chapters format.

This can't be happening.

He can't get arrested, not  _again_  . He didn't even remember being brought down to the station. All he can gather from his hazy memories is that he was in the pub with Marco and the boys, and flirting with the bartender. And okay - he might've drank a little bit too much, or that cute bartender spiked his drink after the argument about Bayern vs Dortmund, which he was totally winning, thank you very much.

 

Where  _is_  Marco anyway? That damn son of a bitch. Some friend he is. You don't leave a bro for dead in the police station. That's the code.

His head is pounding and the world is spinning and he's fighting the urge to throw up, because from his past uh, run-ins with the law, throwing up in the station guarantees another night in the cell. And he hated the cell.

"Hey, Müller, you're up!"

"Ugh, not so loud, please," Thomas groaned, massaging his temples. "Why am I here anyway?" The young officer approached him. He raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You really don't remember?" Thomas gave him an annoyed look. "If I did I wouldn't ask, Hummels."

Hummels laughed. God, if his head wasn't killing him right now, he would totally tap that. The young, hot, and totally bangable officer opened up the cell door and pointed to the phone. "Go make your phone call, you have 5 minutes." He ruffled Thomas' hair as he walked past.

"What did I do anyway?" Thomas asked, leaning against the wall while he pressed the familiar number.

"You dressed up in a chicken suit, stormed into KFC and shouted 'I DEMAND TO HAVE MY CHILDREN BACK!'"

"You're shitting me." 

"I wish. Arresting you in that chicken suit is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. The feathers was  _everywhere._ " 

Thomas stared at him. He was about to make a comment about how sexy the officer is in his uniform, when the person at the other line of the phone cock-blocked him.

" _Scheiße_ , Thomas, what did you did this time?"

"I'm offended, Ducky. How did you know it was me?"

"Because you're the only one stupid enough to get arrested the night before classes starts."

Thomas pouts. "Well? Are you gonna bail me out?"

Manu grumbles. "Do I have a choice?"

The younger man grins. "Nope, you swore an oath. You're stuck with me for life."

"How much is it?"

Thomas turns to Hummels and repeated the question.

 

"Twenty-five."

"Hundreds?"

"Thousand."

Thomas blinked. 

 

"FOR STORMING INTO A KFC DRESSED AS A CHICKEN?"

"The restaurant was closed." Hummels opened up a folder and started to read off his charges. "So you have, breaking and entering, public disturbance, and resisting arrest." He closed the folder and look at Thomas with a shit-eating grin. "All in one night. Congratulations."

If he wasn't so hot Thomas would probably punch him.

"Mülli, how much?" Manu said impatiently. He can hear the older man getting dressed.

"Twenty-five thousand," Thomas said, the defeat was apparent in his voice.

 

It was quiet for a moment.

 

"You're so dead this time."

"No shit."


	2. One: Marco

The first day of college counts as one of the most important day of any young adult's life - whether you're a returnee or one of the freshmen, your social status will most likely be determined on this very day.

Normally, Marco would be having the time of his life - being the social butterfly he is - and flirting with everything that breathes with his partner crime.

 

But today, when the aforementioned partner in crime stood outside of the coffee shop - holding a cup of coffee for himself and a cup of hot chocolate with an astonishing amount of whipped cream - Marco appeared, his face is gloomy and he's wearing his hangover clothes; hoodie and jeans, and a beanie that's pulled down to his eyebrows.

"Dude, you okay?" André asked, a slight smirked appeared on his face

 

 

"No," Marco answered. He looked devastated.

"Care to share with the class?" André asked, mentally slapping Marco in the head and telling him to stop being such a drama queen. But because André is such a good friend, he didn't do those things, instead, he put a hand on on the shorter blond's shoulder and wait while he sipped his hot cocoa.

"It'smyhair," Marco finally blurted out.

"What? Dude, stop mumbling."

Marco looked at his best friend annoyed, and dragged him to the back of the coffee shop.

He dramatically took off his beanie.

André's jaw went slack. He really,  _really_ cannot believe what he's seeing. He stared at Marco for the whole seconds and then burst out laughing.

"Dude, holy shit, what the fuck happened to your hair?"

Marco wails. "I took a shower this morning at that little shit put fucking hair dye on my shampoo."

André laughed harder. "Dude, it's  _Bayern red_."

"I know, you fucktard, shut up."

Marco put on his beanie back, pulling it until it reached his eyebrows, and then he looked up to Andre dramatically.

"I swear, on the holy BVB crest of Borussia Dortmund, when I see that little shit, I'm gonna kill him."

"Yeah, good luck with that."

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day went okay, considering. Marco says hi to all his friends, joked around, and even messed with the freshmen. He had is eyes on one of André's junior - his name is Mario-something. He didn't get a chance to get his last name before he saw a familiar figure walking down the courtyard.

Marco immediately excused himself.

André glanced at him, looking at the direction he was walking into, and ran after him.

"Marco! Marco, stop!" he called.

Marco ignored him.

When he got closed enough to the floppy-haired boy, he shouted, "Hey, Asshole!"

Thomas turned around. Marco swung his fist into the taller boy's face.

"What the fuck!" Thomas yelled, clutching his face.

"How dare you! You know how much it means to me -  _how fucking dare you_!" Marco shouted, furiously swinging his fist into Thomas.

"Oh really? Look who's talking!" There's a coy smile playing on his lips, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"You abandoned me! I got arrested last night,  _Marco,_ " he spat out his name. 

"I didn't, you prick. I tried to drag your sorry-ass out of that pub, but you threw a drink at me so I left!"

"What? But then how-"

Several things happened at once.

He scarcely noticed the crowd that're forming around them - phones out, recording the dumbest fight of the century.

He saw André face-palming his head so hard he actually staggered backwards.

And then Thomas got tackled by the security guard.

 

 

A split-seconds later, he joined Thomas at the ground.

"Shows over, folks!" 

 

* * *

 

"You two need to stop doing this."

Marco and Thomas are sitting in the guidance counselor's office. The guidance counselor -  Fips, they like to call him - is pacing around the room, lecturing them about their idiotic behavior.

"Especially you, Thomas," Fips snapped, suddenly. "I got a call this morning, from the police. You got arrested,  _again_." _  
_

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't even know what the fuck happened last night," Thomas blurted. He looked so frustrated, Marco almost felt sorry for him. Almost. But when he glanced to his left, saw a reflection of himself in the mirror with his god-awful hair, any sympathy quickly dissipate from his conscience.

"And you, Reus," Fips turned to him now.  _Schei _ße_. _ "You can't just go around throwing punches at people - no matter what they did to your hair."

Marco was smart enough to keep his mouth shut, though in any other conversation he'd probably go on a long, long rant about the importance of a man's hair.

"I managed to convinced the dean that you two are  _not_  a total idiot, and so he agrees to not suspend you," Fips said.

"Thank you - you won't regret this, I swear," Thomas started to say, but Fips raised his hand.

"On one condition: one more incident and you're both out."

Marco raised his eyebrows and look at Fips with disbelieve. "It was just a fight!"

"I'm not getting paid enough for this," Fips muttered under his breath. "Look, you two have the longest rep sheet than any other students combined. And don't forget the stunt that you guys pulled last Halloween." At this, Thomas exchanged a grin with Marco.

"Don't get yourself into anymore trouble this year, I mean it. I vouched for you, so if you get into any trouble, it's my ass on the line," Fips said.

Marco exchanged looks with Thomas and they both nod. After all, as annoying as he is, Fips had been considerably nice at them. Most of the time. If he's not being a fussy mother hen. Really, it wouldn't surprise them if Fips had literally put his ass on the line for them - Thomas suspect it has something to do with Fips taking unhealthy pride from the fact that their dean, Jogi, has entrusted them to Fips. He wouldn't want to ruin that trust. 

"Alright, thank you, Fipsy," Marco said and shook his hand.

"Don't call me that. Now, fuck off."

 

* * *

 

"I'm sorry," Thomas said once they're out of Fips' office.

"That's alright, I would've done the same." Marco grinned.

"Truce?" "Truce." They both shake on it

And although there are still matters unspoken, they choose to push them aside for the sake of friendship. Bros before hos, as always. Or at this case, bros before revenge. Sweet, painful, embarrassing revenge that best served cold.

Their beautiful bromance moment (no homo - really, no. Thomas would rather sign up to be a pope than to view Marco as anywhere near object of sexual desire and vice versa), however, was interrupted by the sudden burst of the door swinging upon with force that could wrung the door out of it's frame. Faintly, Thomas can hear Fips curse and shouting "GET THE FUCK OUT OFF MY OFFICE FLOOR AND WRECK HAVOC SOMEWHERE ELSE, MÜLLER!" before he was tackled to the floor by a bear.

Or something akin to that.

"Mülli! Mülli! Are you okay? Oh my God, your eyes are swollen. Okay don't panic - I'm gonna get some ice and I'm gonna get you to a-"

"Ducky, I'm fine, for God's sake," Thomas exclaimed, face's matching Marco's blazing hair. "I'm fine, it was just a little misunderstanding and I-" Thomas paused, eyes widened when he saw another figure behind Manu's broad shoulders.

"What is  _he_  doing here?" Manu shrugged. Thomas could've sworn that his best friend was blushing.

"We were getting coffee when Manu received the phone call." He smiled. "Nice to see you again,  _Mülli_. Have knack for trouble now, do we?"

"Shut up, Hummels. And nobody calls me Mülli, except for Ducky."

 

Marco watched this banter in amusement.

Manu noticed Marco's smile and walk towards him, leaving his date and Thomas arguing behind him.

"You okay?" Manu asked softly.

Marco shrugged. "Probably some bruises here and there, but I'll be okay."

"I'm sorry about this," Manu said quietly. "When I dropped him off last night I didn't realize he have that in his possession." He gestured to Marco's hair awkwardly.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," Marco patted him on the shoulder.

Manu gave him one of his most charming smile and went back to his date.

 

"Hey, Mats, do you wanna uh, continue our um-" Manu fidgets with his cardigan. Thomas rolled his eyes and push Manu out the door.

"Date. It's called a date, Ducky," he said with amusement.

Manu turned to a darker shade of red and Mats laughed. He wrapped his arm around Manu's shoulder and look at him fondly. "Well, then, I guess we all should go back to the coffee shop. I'm buying."

Thomas and Marco cheered, their fight earlier forgotten.

 

For now.


	3. Two: Manu

Today was a really confusing day for Manu.

First, Mats called him (they exchange numbers when he picked Mulli up from the station) and asked if he's free and whether or not he would like to get coffee together. Manu said yes, obviously, because Mats is a nice guy with a nice smile and nice hair and a beautifully sculpted ass - not that he was ogling (but let's be honest - have you seen his uniform? Those shit are super tight). Thomas later said that he was being easy, but Manu really liked him so he thought what the hell.

 

Mats turned out to be a really decent guy. He was smart, had a great sense of humor, and most importantly - he loves Nutella. They had an honest-to-God serious passionate discussion about it. He was also a Dortmund fan but let's just not get into that.

 

They were about to go their separate ways when Manu's phone rings, and the name that flashed on the screen reads  _Kitty Lahm._ He really, really need to regularly change his password, _damn it Thomas_.

 

"Hello?" he greeted.

"Hi, Neuer. Müller got into a fight  _again_  and I need you to please, please walk him home because I swear to fucking God if he's not out of my building in 15 minutes, it will caught on fire."

"Oh my God, okay, okay. He's okay, though, right? He's fine? Hold on, I'm on my way," he rambled and hung up before Fips got a chance to say anything else and shoved the phone into his pocket.

 

Mats raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

"No, Mülli got into a fight and I have to pick him up and make sure that he's okay," he answered.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Mats volunteered.

"You'd do that?" Manu asked in disbelief.

Mats chuckled. "Well yeah. I like spending time with you. Even if it is picking up that little punk."

Manu glared at him. "That little punk is my friend. We're a package deal, buddy," he said, hands automatically goes to his hip in a 'no-nonsense' way. 

 

If Mats doesn't respect Thomas then all their aforementioned chemistry be damned, he won't date him. Not that they're dating. Oh my God, is this even a date? What if it wasn't and he was just being overconfident?

 

"Figures." Mats smiles (and Manu swear it was enough to melt the entire North Pole - or even Fips' heart), reaching out to grab Manu's shoulders and steer the other man towards the door. "Guess I'll have to get used to it then."

_Can this guy be even more perfect?_  Manu inwardly scream.

Outward though, he just smirked.

 

When they arrived to Fips' building, all thoughts of Mats, handcuffed to his bed quickly forgotten.

 

Because Thomas - his soul brother, his precious friend, his fragile Thomas - is all beaten up with bruises on his face and oh dear God there had better be nothing broken or Manu swear he will kill someone.

 

After a certain noisy meet up at Fips' office, Mats volunteered to buy all of them coffee - despite Manu's initial protest that Thomas is not allowed to drink coffee for safety reasons - and that's how they  ended up in the coffee shop. With Thomas and Marco in tow. Not that he minded anyway, since Mats and Thomas seems to be getting along just fine. Manu smiles to himself, secretly ogling the police officer as he tell Thomas the story of this couple who tried to get married in a museum at 3 am.

 

"They were great, though. They still send us flowers on their anniversary, with a card that said ' _Thank you for the memories._ '"

 

"Don't forget to mention the free breakfast, though, Officer."

 

Marco gasped and high-fived the man behind the counter. "Schweini! You never told me that!"

"You never asked." Schweini shrugged. "André is on your regular booth. And for fuck's sake, man, what is up with your hair?"

Marco glared at Thomas. "Ask the die-hard Bayern fan over there." And he walked over to André, who's sitting with a friend. Manu saw him blushing when a younger man scooted over to examine his face.

 

"Manu! Twice in a day. What's the special occasion?" Schweini asked.

Manu shrugged. "Well, let's see; I was on a date with this gentelman-" He pointed at Mats, who's grinning widely. "And my best friend is an idiot who dyed his roommate's hair and got into fights because of a stupid misunderstanding."

 

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Can I have a cappuccino, please?"

"Mülli, no," Manu warned him.

He ignored Manu and turned to Mats. "Cappuccino is not illegal, right?"

Mats raised his hands. "Don't drag me into this, Kiddo, I'm just trying to get into your best friend's pants."

 

Manu's face turned crimson red and Schweini laughed at that while Thomas mumbled, "Dude, gross."

 

The trio got their order, and Thomas joined Marco and Andre on the booth. He winked conspicuously before he sat down. Mats laughed and lead them to a table next to the window, not far from where Thomas was sitting - just in case.

 

"So," he said. "Today was fun."

"Are you being sarcastic?" Manu knitted his eyebrows.

Mats laughed. God, he looked so beautiful when he laughs. "No, Manu. I really, really like spending time with you. I think you're a great guy."

Manu was about to say something when a loud gasp interrupted him.

 

"Whoa, it was you! From last night?"

 

They both turned their heads to the source of the commotion.

 

Thomas was standing on a chair, hands tapping his thighs. "Excuse me?"

"Dude, you don't remember me?"  
"No, should I?" Thomas raised his eyebrows.

"Well, we rented a chicken costume together on a Monday night. At 2 am. Granted we were drunk, but those kind of things you just don't forget the next day."

 

Manu can almost hear the 'click' sound on Thomas' brain.

 

"It was you!" he shouted.

He lunged to attack him, but thank the heavens Marco and Andre was ready to hold him back

 

"Hey, hey! Break it off! What the hell, Poldi are you okay?" Schweini walked over to them.

"Yeah,  _mein Hase_. It's just this guy - I met him last night when I was out."

 

His expression changed. "Oh? So this is the guy you met last night, when you came home drunk at 4 in the morning wearing a chicken suit after we had an argument and you  _stormed off the house_ , leaving me alone with our son - who cried all night, by the way, did I mention - while you were busy with  _him?_ "

 

Thomas raised his hands. "Ew, Dude, no, gross. We didn't hook up or anything like that, he dressed me up in a chicken suit and then I got arrested."

Schweini glared at his lover.

 

"Thomas you're not helping," André said quietly.

 

"But that's better than me having sex with him!" Thomas says in disbelief. "Marco! Help me out in this!" 

"Sorry man, you refused my help the moment you threw that drink on my face. I am in no way getting involved in this mess."

And Thomas cursed in disbelief when he dragged the junior - Mario-something - and Andre out of the coffee shop.

 

Manu finally broke off whatever trance he was on and interfered. "Look, why don't you tell us what happened and then we can sort it out."

He glanced at Mats, who shrugged and looked as clueless as he was.

 

Poldi took a seat and began to explain.

 

"Okay, so last night Basti and I got into an argument-" Basti rolled his eyes. "And then I walked to the bar to clear my head. Let me finish," he added when he saw Schweini already opened his mouth, face quickly turned red in anger. "I was sitting alone when this young man over here," he gestured to Thomas. "Asked me if I was okay. And then I told him about the fight. Everything was a bit fuzzy after that but I remember that we rented a chicken costume together and that his name is Thomas. After that, I found myself sleeping naked in the couch."

 

"Why, what happened to you?" Poldi asked.

 

"Well I  _allegedly_  broke into a KFC and shouting to have my children back," Thomas said.

Poldi's face lighted up. "Dude that is- awful. terrible. Man you  shouldn't have done that," he said after Schweini glared at him.

"Well I did got arrested. And the officer who arrested me happens to be on a date with my traitor best friend." Thomas shrugged.

 

"Hey!" Manu protested. "I bailed you out! You owe me - and some other people, but mostly me - 25k."

 

Schweini's eyes widened. "Holy shit, that is a lot of money."

 

Thomas grimaced. "Don't even remind me. I'll pay you back, I swear. I just need to find a job."

 

"Why don't you just work here?"

 

All eyes turned to Poldi.

 

"What? I kinda feel guilty - for some Godforsaken reason. But Basti and I have been talking about hiring a new employee anyway, since the last guy was caught smoking pot on his lunch break. You don't smoke, do you?"

"No," Thomas answered. "Is this for real?"

Schweini shrugged. "Eh, what the hell. The salary is 600 bucks a week, and you can keep the tips. You in?"

 

"Yes! God, yes! Thank you so much!" Thomas shouted and hugged them both. "You won't regret it, I promise!"

 

He turned to hug Manu and jumped around excitedly. "Ducky, I got a job! Now I don't have to sell my kidneys to the black market!"

Manu patted him on the back. "I'll accept check."


	4. Three: Thomas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A NEW CHAPTER YAY  
> I'm sorry for the lack of updates, we've been pretty busy  
> We will try to update per week :)

 

 

It's Thomas' first day of working at the coffee shop, and he's doing horribly. Well, to be fair, he was exhausted because he had literally just finished his classes. And those classes were horrible, mind you. Everyone seems to know about his stupid brawl with Marco the day before and that both of them had managed to land themselves on Fips’ mercy on the first day of the semester. Naturally, they all keen to remind him of that fact. Every second of the day. Even his lecturers would make unfunny jokes like “Mr. Müller, do remember that there should not be any brawling in my class, no matter how annoying other kids maybe.” Whether that is a joke or an actual threat, Thomas can no longer see the difference.

And he is trying – for god sake, he tries so hard to make fill these cups with ridiculously named beverage. But after he dropped his fifth cup of coffee, Lukas - bless him - finally gave up on teaching him how to make a proper cappuccino.

"Let's just station you at the cashier, now, shall we?" he said, patting Thomas on the back.

"Yes! I mean, yeah, sure," Thomas replied, a huge relieved grin plastered on his face.

"Just please, don't mess up the order, okay?" Lukas said.

Thomas nodded enthusiastically and followed Lukas to the counter. After he showed Thomas how to operate the cashier, he went to the kitchen muttering, "I need an aspirin." 

It was a slow afternoon. Probably because it's in the middle of the week and classes had just started. The students who usually swamped the coffee shop doing their assignments are still trying to hold on to the summer. Thomas could relate to them though, what’s with the warm sun outside which would be perfect for sun tanning and a day out on the beach… But no. Instead he’s stuck in a nearly deserted coffee shop.

Thank God he brought his books with him. In no time, he was nose-deep in a book about a journalist – a hot one, really. Not your average geeky who's investigating a serial killer. He was just on the part where the journalist is starting to piece together the clues when someone coughed and got his attention.

He looked up from his book, mildly annoyed to be interrupted from his extremely interesting reading. He opened up his mouth to say something when - oh.

 

_Oh_.

 

Standing in front of him, was an extremely beautiful man. Tall and handsome, eyes so blue that Thomas felt like he could swim in it. His hair was dark and ruffled - in a way that kind of reminded him of that Twilight guy Marco fawned over. And his cheekbones, God -

The beautiful stranger coughed again, this time with a repressed smile. Thomas didn't realized that he was gaping at the stranger - sort of like a fish out of water - until then. He smiled awkwardly as he felt a warm blush starting to spread on his face and neck.

Thomas cleared his throat. "Um - hi. My name is Thomas, how may I help you?" he managed to squeak out. At least he didn't stutter /that/ much, so that's good.

"Hey. Can I have a double shot cappuccino, extra whip cream? Oh, and please add caramel syrup on the whip cream."

His voice was raspy and super, super sexy. Goddamn.

Thomas scribbled down the order.

"One cappuccino, extra whip cream and caramel syrup," he repeated. "Can I get you anything else? A croissant, maybe? Or the cinnamon roll is pretty great too."

"No, thank you. Just the cappuccino, please." And he smiled. Thomas felt like he could melt into a puddle of goo at any second.

"Alright, then. Who should I make this one to?" he said, trying to be as charming as possible - which simply doesn't work when you're blushing, exhausted, and wearing a bright blue apron. He really need to talk to Schweini about the uniform policy.

"Miroslav," he answered.

"Miroslav. That's a pretty name. Polish?" Thomas mentally slaps himself on the head. Oh yeah, real smooth, buddy.

"Yes," Miro - yes, he made up a nickname for his future husband, shut up - answered, ignoring the small talk that Thomas is trying to make.

"Alright, then. That'll be €3.95."

Miro gave him the money and they hands touch. His fingers might've linger a little bit on the taller man's hand.

"Please take a seat. I'll call you when your order's ready."

Thomas gave him a wink. This time Miro couldn't help to smirk.

 

As Miro took his seat, Thomas scrambles back to the kitchen...

...only to found his two bosses making out, covered in flour for some godforsaken reason.

He decided to clear his throat when Schweini started to moan.

The two men quickly jump off of each other, both faces bright red.

"Thomas! I thought I've told you to man the cashier!" said Lukas, slightly out of breath.

"I did," Thomas replied, putting on his best poker face. "But there was nobody to take the order so I've figured I should come to the kitchen. Seriously, though, what is up the flour?"

"Poldi is um, teaching me how to bake," Schweini answered, blushing harder.

"Ah, _Hase_ , you're so adorable."

Thomas could've swore that they would start making out - or worse - right then and there, but thankfully, Julian walked in.

"Hey, Lukas, we ran out of cinnamon ro- What the fuck happened here?"

"Lukas is teaching his _Hase_ how to bake and they started making out," Thomas offered and smirked when he saw Jule's nose crinkled.

 "That is so unhygienic," Julian said. "Please go bake a cinnamon roll that is not been tainted with any bodily fluids, we have customers waiting."

 

Without saying anything else, he dragged Thomas out of the kitchen by the apron.

"You need cappuccino, yes? Here, let me show you how to do it."

As Thomas watched the barista worked, his mind - and his eyes - traveled to the man sitting on the table next to the window. He was reading a book, hands traveled to his hair then and now. Fuck - he's gorgeous.

"Alright, that's it. Think you can manage it on your own next time?" Julian's voice snapped him back to reality.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," Thomas answered.

Jule rolled his eyes and hand him the steaming cup. " _Don't_ drop it."

Thomas did a mock salute. "Yes, _Herr_ Draxler, sir!"

 

He then went to grab some tissues and after a quick consideration, scrabbled something down on the paper cup.

"Miroslav!" he called.

The older man didn't look up from his book, so Thomas checked himself on the mirror quickly before he went to him.

"Excuse me," Thomas greeted, a shy smile playing on his face. "Your cappuccino, sir."

Miro seemed to sit a little bit more straight at the 'sir.'

"Thank you, Thomas," he said warmly. 

Thomas' heart fluttered when Miro rewarded him with a smile.

He started to walk back to the counter, planning on how he would stare at at the older man without being creepy when he called him.

"Thomas?"

He almost skipped back to the table. "Yes? Do you need anything else?"

Miro shook his head and look at him straight in the eye. "Is this your phone number?" he said, turning his cup to show Thomas his messy scribbles.

Thomas grinned.

Miro shook his head, a faint smile on his lips, but his eyes look a little bit sad.

"I'm flattered, really I am. You're a charming _young_ man, but I have kids. Maybe in a few years."

 

Thomas flashed him a smile before walking back to the counter, Miro's voice echoing in his mind.


	5. Four: Marco

 

 

 

"Manu? It's Marco. Could you please come and babysit Thomas? I have a date in 3 hours and I can't play Dr. Phil. I need to bleach my hair back to its former glory."

 

Marco stared at his reflection in the mirror and ruffles his hair, slightly cringing at the color of it.

"Thomas? He's been locking himself up in his room after he got home from work and - no he's fine and I didn't do anything I swear. God, Manu, stop being such a mom."

He heard Manu's grumbling and chuckled.

 

Suddenly, Thomas door burst open. He yanked the phone out of Marco's hand.

"Ducky, could you please come here in like, half an hour? I need an emergency Star Trek marathon - yes, the reboot, not the originals."

 

Marco raised an eyebrow and Thomas waved his hand dismissively. He said goodbye to his Ducky and gave Marco his phone back.

"I'm sorry about your hair."

Marco's eyes widened.

"What?" he squeaked. Thomas rolled his eyes. "I said I'm sorry, Woody." Marco can't believe this. "Did Poldi make his 'special exotic tea' again? God, I thought I've told Schweini to throw all of it out after-"

"No, Marco, shut up. I'm just trying to be the mature one here."

This time, Marco can't help but laughed.

"Really? You, mature? Out of the two of us, who's the one who got a hypothermia because he paraded around campus wearing nothing but a bright red speedo in the middle of winter last year because he'd lost a bet, huh?"

"I thought we agreed to never talk about that incident ever again." Thomas pouted.

"Yeah, it's kinda hard to do that since Kevin posted that on YouTube."

 

Thomas sigh and went back to his room, wrapped himself in his blanket and hugs his Berni teddy bear that Manu gave him for his 18th birthday.

 

"Do you think I'm immature?" he asked out of the blue.

"Uh, duh."

Marco wish he could take back what he said almost instantly as he saw the pain that flashed on Thomas' usually cheerful expression.

A simple 'oh' was his answer.

 

Marco knew he said that he doesn't have time to play Dr. Phil, but this seems urgent. Thomas, as ridiculous as he was, is one of the greatest friend that Marco ever had - even though they just know each other for a year.

He took a deep breath and walked into Thomas' room, sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the younger man.

"Something's bothering you, what is it?" he asked. He looked at the younger man, who's pouting and staring angrily at the Bayern's mascot. 

 

"Why do you care?" Thomas snapped. 

 

Marco raised an eyebrow at his tone. "Because we're friends, dumbo. Why else would I put up with you?"

Thomas' expression softened at that. "Promise me that you wouldn't laugh," he said. Marco rolled his eyes for what feels like the thousandth time this past hour. "Fine, yeah, I promise."

And Marco finally understood why Thomas had made him promise. The story was so goddamn ridiculous. He could use ninety percent of it for blackmail material - but he wouldn't. Because Marco is a good friend.

 

"And then he told me, 'Thank you, I'm flattered, but you're too young for me, so maybe in a couple of years?' I mean, who the fuck does that?"

"Thomas," Marco said, repressing a deep sigh. "You've practically know the guy for - what, five minutes?" "Eight." "That was rhetorical."

 

Thomas was about to answer when they heard a knock on the door.

"Ducky!" he said excitedly and leaped out of the bed, still clutching Berni. Marco can't help but laugh and shake his head. He can hear the sound of the front door being opened and an 'Oomph!' that's undoubtedly came from Thomas hug attack.

He walk outside of Thomas' bedroom and quickly go into his own. After all, he still have to prepare for his date.

 

That thought put a smile on his face as he open his wardrobe.

 

***

 

When he finally walked up to the living room - roughly an hour later - he found his roommate being cuddled by Manu as they watching Star Trek.

"Okay, so I'm going out now. Please don't burn the apartment down, I've just paid my half of the rent for the next three months."

Manu waved at him and Thomas just smiled. "Should I wait up?" he asked. Marco briefly consider his answer. "Nah."

The younger man let out a soft whistle. "Don't forget to use protection!" he shouted after him. Marco rolled his eyes and he walk out the door.

  

***

 

The cold night air sent a shiver down his body and he tightened the jacket around him.

 

After that incident with Thomas and they walked out of the coffee shop, André received his 'Please go away, I'm trying to get laid' stare and quickly said his goodbye.

"I should probably go too, I don't wanna be late for my first class tomorrow," Mario said after André was out of sight.

"I'll walk you back," Marco offered eagerly. Mario blushed. "No, it's fine, it's not that far anyway."

Marco had found the resistance cute - or maybe it's the round cheek. "Tell you what, why don't you give me your phone number. So that I could, you know, make sure that you got back safe?"

Mario turned a deeper shade of red, but he fished out a permanent marker and grab Marco's right arm and scribble down a number.

"There."

 

He turned around and walk away. Marco grinned ear to ear whilst appreciating the view of the younger man walking away.

He pulled out the phone from his pocket and called out, "Hey, Sunny!"

Mario turned around and Marco snapped a picture. "Be safe!"

Mario laughed and continued to walk.

 

Marco wasn't sure where the nickname had came from, but it's fitting. And he thought he saw a smile on Mario's lips then. 

 

He saved the number in his phone, and put the picture on the contact details.

He whistled as he walked back to his apartment. 

 

Now, in a much familiar situation, he's whistling to calm his beating heart as he walks to Mario's dorm.

 


	6. Five: Mario

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took soo long. Been busy with school and stuff.  
> BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY  
> MARCO AND BASTI ARE BACK ON TRAINING CAN I GET A HELL YEA

"Götze! There's a Marco on the front desk!"

 

 

Mario took a deep breath and looked at his own reflection in the mirror. He has been giving himself a pep talk for the last fifteen minutes or so.

When Marco called him yesterday after class, asking him to go out, he immediately said yes. So much for playing hard to get, huh.

He can't help it. Marco is...something else. Maybe it's the easy smile, or the way he kept running his long, lean fingers through his hair. He can think of a lot of places those fingers could be put to good use.

And with that in mind, he walked to the elevator and press the button.

Marco is sitting on the lobby, phone in hand, tapping furiously. Mario walked towards him and stopped right in front of his date. He look up from his phone, eyes bright and smiling.

"Hey, Sunny. Ready to go?"

Mario returns the smile and nods. "Yup, I'm just, uh - what's with the 'Sunny?'" he asked. The blond got into his feet and shrugged. "I don't know. It suits you, though.

Mario can feel the warm blush that's starting to spread in his face. It happens far too often when he's around Marco. The blond can make him blush just by staring at him with a smile, for god's sake. "Come on, let's leave now," Marco says, intertwining his fingers with Mario's. And there goes Mario's attempt at getting rid of the redness in his face. If anything, he got even redder. They exited the building and heads for the campus' bus station.

"You still haven't told me where we're going." Mario said. Marco just gives him his trademark crooked smile. "You'll see," he answered cryptically. Mario raises an eyebrow. "Is this the part of the date where you tell me that you're actually a serial killer and _not_  interested of getting into my pants? I'm disappointed."

Marco laughed. "I knew I liked you." He ran a hand on his hair.

"Come on. If we miss the bus we're fucked."

 

***

 

As it turns out, Marco took him to a carnival out on the beach.

"I haven't been to a carnival in ages," Mario sighed in happiness, a dreamy look upon his face. He can't seem to look away from the bright lights and the vibrant colors, transfixed by the crowd. Marco found him even more beautiful than all that. So he grinned and wrap his arm around Mario's shoulder. "I wasn't sure at first if this is a good idea," he said. "But it seems that I've made the right choice."

They circle the place and decides to buy some hot beverages. Mario's eyes widened at the sight of Marco's whipped cream-covered hot cocoa. "What," he muttered. "In the holy hell is _that_?" The blond shrugged, though his face is tinted pink now.

"It's um - it's kind of embarrassing, actually," he mumbled. It's the first time Marco had seemed nervous tonight. _Interesting_ , Mario thought. "Go on."

"Well, when I was a kid, I was obsessed with astronomy and um - I have two older sisters, right, and they managed to convinced me that whipped cream were bottled clouds."

He stole a glance in Mario's direction and he saw the younger boy's grinning ear-to-ear. "That's actually really adorable," he said. Marco rolled his eyes but his cheeks are flushed.

"Come on, let's play something so I can gain _some_  dignity back."

Mario let out a low chuckle as Marco drags him away.

 

***

 

They ended up playing a shooting game. Mario saw an Emma the Bee plushie on one of the shelf and stared. Marco looked at him and the plushie and back and laughed. "A man after my own heart," he said.

When Mario sent a questioning glance the older boy just shrugged. "I'm a Dortmund fan, you're a Dortmund fan. I'm telling you, we're meant to be."

He slipped the guy behind the counter a couple euros. He turned away and faces his date. "Well, shall we play?"

Both of them are laughing now, occasionally stole a touch from each other. Marco is competitive, there's no doubt about that. Which made it more hilarious considering how much he sucked at this game.

And that's why, when a mark is finally got hit, he spills out the most creative string of curses that Mario has ever heard.

"You said a bad word!"

The pair exchange a look and turned to their right. Standing there, is a young boy - probably 8 or 9 years old - a huge grin plastered on his face.

"So, what is a motherfu-"

"Noah, there you are! Papa and I have been looking everywhere for you."

Another boy approached them. They appeared to be in the same age, but this one is wearing glasses. He quickly pulled the other one - Noah, was it? - for a tight hug.

"I'm fine, Luan. God, I'm _eight_  years old. I'm a big boy now, Papa knows it too," Noah said as he pulled away. "Where is he, anyway?"

"What?" Luan glanced back and his expression shifted. "He was right behind me when I saw you!"

He looks like he's about to burst in tears in any seconds. Mario opens his mouth to say something, but Marco beat him to it. The blond crouched down and face the boy.

"Hey, Luan, is it? I'm Marco, it's nice to meet you." He shook Luan's hand. "Don't panic, okay? Me and my friend here, we'll help you find your Papa." He ruffled the young boy's hair. Luan took off his glasses and Mario gasped.

"You're twins!" he said excitedly. Luan and Noah rolled their identical eyes in unison, amused grin on their face.

"Yeah. And no, we are not telepathic or any other freaky shit like that," Noah said sarcastically. Luan softly elbowed him. "Noah, language."

Marco watched them in amusement. He glanced in Mario's direction and smiles.

"Alright, alright. Settle down, now," he finally said. "Okay, how about this: Luan can go with me and Noah will go with Sunny."

Mario felt a slight blush coloring his cheeks on the nickname, but he shrugged it off and put a hand on Noah's shoulder.

They decided to split up, and Marco headed to the right, after landing a soft peck to the younger boy's cheek. "I'll see you later. Call me when you find something."

Noah watch in amusement as Mario's cheeks reddened. "You know," he said after Marco is out of sight. "You blush really _really_  easily."

Mario rolled his eyes. "Ha-ha, kid."

They walked around for a bit, Noah scanning the crowd for his father and Mario's mind wondeeds about how the hell did he ended up babysitting an eight year old when he's supposed to be on a date with his senior's really hot best friend.

His train of thought was cut off when Noah tugs at his sleeve. "Sunny," he said. It sounded wrong when it's not Marco who says it. "Sunny, I'm hungry."

He gives Mario the best puppy dog eyes that the older boy has ever seen. "Alright, alright. What do you want?"

They settled on hot dogs and sits down on the bench nearby. He sent a quick text to Marco about their whereabouts and he replied with a winky face emoji.

Noah is excitedly talking about the time he broke his arm and how Luan actually feels it.

"I mean, he keep wincing when someone touches my arm. _I_  didn't even feel it."

Mario smiled at that and ruffles the your boy's hair.

"Hey do you think we could-"

"Noah! There you are. God, I've been worried sick."

A tall man, probably in his early thirties with the twins' blue eyes jogs towards them. He quickly pulled his son into a tight hug and kissed the top of his head. "Please, please, _please_ , don't do that again, okay?" he said, relief is apparent in his face. "And uh, don't tell your mother about this. She won't let me see you guys again if she finds out."

Noah quietly nods. A strange look flashed on his face but it was gone in a second.

"Now, where's your brother?" he asked. And in that moment, he finally realized that the boy wasn't alone. "Who are you?" His eyebrow is raised in such a way that even Mario was impressed with.

"I'm not - I mean, I didn't kidnap him if that's what your implying," Mario said and immediately regret. "I was just uh, helping him to find you, actually. Me and my friend over there." He gestured to Marco who's walking towards them, holding two cotton candy and he looks _adorable_.

"Papa!" Luan runs to his father open arms. "I'm sorry, I saw Noah and I just - I didn't think, Papa. I'm sorry."

The older man seems to straighten up on that. "It's not your fault, Luan, it's fine."

"Oh, so it's _my_   fault?" Noah said. He looks really angry for an eight year old holding a half-eaten hot dog.

"No, Noah. I didn't mean-"

"Forget it. I wanna go home," he said. "To _mom_."

He looked at his father with a challenging look in his eyes. The older man just looked back, sad and tired.

"If that's what you want," he finally said. "Luan?"

Luan took of his glasses and starts to clean it with his shirt. "I'll stay with you."

Noah shot a crossed look to his twin and then shook his head.

The older man turned his attention to Marco and Mario.

"Thank you for helping out the boys," he said and flash them a smile. He's beautiful for a dad of two. "If there's anything I can do-"

"Nah, it's okay," Marco cut off. "Just - keep a better eyes on these two."

The older man laughed. "I will. My name is Miroslav, by the way. Miroslav Klose."

"Marco Reus." They shook hands. "And this is Mario Götze."

They said their goodbye, and Noah hugged Mario quickly. "Bye, Sunny!"

The three of them walked away.

Marco whistles and snakes an arm around Mario's torso.

"That was fun and all," he said. "But little Luan there turned out to be a chatter box and I think he talked my ears off."

Mario laughed. "Let's go back."

 

***

 

Marco offered to walk him back to his dorm and this time, he agreed. They hold hands and didn't talk much on their way back.

When they reached the dorm, Marco let go of his hand and sighed. "I think I miss you already, Sunny."

Mario smiles and rolled his eyes. "You're so cheesy."

"And you're just getting that now?" Marco said cheekily. "I am a drama student after all."

Mario is dying to kiss that smug grin on his face, and he thought _what the hell_  and went for it.

Their lips was a breath away when suddenly -

 

"YOOO I'LL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT, WANT I REALLY REALLY WANT."

 

" _What the fuck_."

Marco reached to his pocket and pulled out his phone and cursed at the called ID.

"Goddamn fucking son of a bitch," he muttered. "What, Thomas?"

He listened to his phone and frowned. "Thomas," he said. "Why are you calling me _in the middle of the night_ , when I am not back from my date yet, and ask me to buy you _ten_  jars of Nutella and 24 rolls of toilet papers?"

He looked at Mario and said, "You know what, forget it. I don't wanna know. Get Manu to buy it. I'm not coming home tonight."

Mario looked at him and he pressed the 'end' button.

"My, my," the shorter boy said. "First date and you've already invited yourself to stay the night."

The blond laughs. "Are you complaining?"

Mario shook his head.

 

"Nope."


	7. Six: Thomas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! We've been super busy with school and all that real life things.  
> And also der Klassiker.  
> Don't even

Thomas walks into class with his usual "WHAT'S UPPP?!" and everyone just stop and stare for two seconds before bursting into laughter. Grinning, he proceeds to greet his friends with fist bumps and lots of loud yelling. He put on his (sort of) infamous toothy grin as everyone greets him - but to be honest, he didn't recognize half of the class. Oh well, that's the risk of being a renowned public figure.

"Hey, Tommy!" Christoph pats him on the back with such force it almost send Thomas face-first to the floor. "Already recovered from your fight with Reus, I see."

"Not if you hit me like that again, Kramer," Thomas scoffed, pushing his friend away. "But as you can see, I'm whole and still drop-dead gorgeous - all up and ready to make some noooiiiseee!"

The rest of the class apparently pays attention to their (admittedly) dumb conversation and erupts into a loud cheer. Thomas' grin only grow wider.

 _See,_ Thomas thought to himself. _Haven't lost my charm and still as awesome as ever. Fuck that Miroslav guy_

Butapparently, putting  _fuck_  and  _Miroslav_  in the same sentence is not a good idea.

He slumps down on a seat next to Lars and props his feet on the desk. "So, what class is this again?" Lars looks at him incredulously and raises an eyebrow.

"Really? You don't even know your own class?"

"Nope." Thomas shrugs. "But Ducky - Manuel - said that I have a class on 205 today, so tadaa,  here I am."

"How did you even passed last year's exam, god," Lars muttered to himself. "Well, it's political communication. You know, the course that we agreed to take for our optional courses?"

Thomas nods along, although he understand like, half of it. He needs to cross check with Manu. But wait - "It's that why I don't know most of the people here?" "...Yeah, let's go with that."

With his curiosity sated, he leaned back and his wander around the room, trying to familiarize himself with the rest of the class, now and then waving to some people he does know.

His grin faltered when saw a familiar figure walked in.

 

Miroslav.

 

And holy goddamn hell, he looked  _hot_. Like, those glasses and the khakis and the tucked shirt and the skinny tie are probably too much for a class, but  _damn_.

Straightening himself up, and quickly checking himself out on Lars' phone (which earned him a smack in the shoulder), he approached Miro with what he hoped is a confident grin.

"So, Thomas said, casually leaning on the professor's desk. "We meet again."

Miro's eyes softened as he recognized the younger man, but the rest of his face gave nothing away. Thomas made a quick mental note to never -  _ever_  - play poker with the man.

"Thomas," Miro greeted and nodded once.

"What a coincidence, eh? Guess I'm  _too_  young for you after all." At that, Miro smiled a little and walked around him. He set his bag on the desk and turned to look at Thomas.

"Actually," he said quietly. "You really, really are. Please take a seat, Thomas."

Thomas grinned and walked back to his seat next to Lars, on cloud nine because Miro actually  _remembered_ him.   _So what is he doing in this class, and why did he -_ _  
_

" _Scheiße!"_

He didn't realize he said that out loud until Lars kicked his shin under the desk and he heard some people snickered. He looked at Miro apologetically but a weird feeling was starting to build on his stomach. The older man just looked at him calculatingly.

Miroslav finally coughed to get the class' attention. The noise died down almost instantly as they looked at their new professor.

"Good morning," he greeted the class. His voice easily filled the room. "My name is Miroslav Klose and I'll be teaching political communication this year. It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

"Now, can anyone tell me what political communication is, exactly?"

Thomas sunk down as Lars' hand shot straight up ( _that nerd_ ). Miro turned his attention to them - or rather, Lars, but it's quite hard to miss all six-foot-one of Thomas' lean and currently flustered figure.

Lars started to speak and all Thomas can thought about is how fucking screwed he is.

 

***

 

Thomas failed to paid any attention on the actual lesson for the rest of the class. All he did was stare at Miroslav. His eyes traveled from Miro's dark brown hair (he ran his fingers through it time to time), to his glasses (which made his eyes bluer than it already is), down to his shirt and finally, those damn khakis. _  
_

Now, Thomas doesn't know a lot about khakis, he preferred jeans like any normal person, but he's pretty sure that it's not supposed to be that tight. _Fuck_.

By the time Miroslav dismissed the class, Thomas was a mess. His hair is what Marco probably had nightmares about. Lars didn't understand what's going on and he looked done with the taller boy, but his expression softened with one look on Thomas' face. He patted him on the back as he walked out.

Thomas stay seated as everyone walked out. When the classroom is empty except for himself and his new professor, Miro finally looked up from his papers and looked at Thomas expectantly. "Do you have any questions?" he asked lightly. Thomas fought the sudden urge to punch his smug-ass face. Or to kiss that expression away.  _Ugh_. _  
_

"Why didn't you tell me?" Thomas said as he walked towards the older man. He sounded braver than he feel. He felt anger bubbling down on his stomach - which caught him off guard. He had no right whatsoever to be angry at Miroslav, and yet, he is. "You know you could've just told me, right? That you're a freaking professor, instead of-"

"But what difference would that make?"

It was a logical point, but this only made Thomas angrier. "The difference is,  _sir_ , you don't have to made me feel like a fucking child,  _damn it_."

He's acting childish and irrational, he knew that. And worse, Miro knew it too. The older man raised an eyebrow and Thomas scoffed and leave the room as fast as he can.

He ran straight to Manu's place and opened the door with his own key unannounced - which he immediately regretted, considering his friend is lying on the couch, and atop of him was a shirtless Officer Hummels sucking hickeys on his best friend's neck. They're both too lost in each other to notice Thomas presence.

He was about to turn around and leave, and maybe bang his head against the wall to forget today ever happened, but Manu's eyes suddenly shot open.

"Mülli!" he gasped.

Both he and Mats quickly sprung up to their feet, hair messy and breathing ragged.

"I didn't remember we schedule a lunch today," Manu said, obviously trying to distract Thomas while their favorite officer buttoned up his shirt. "No, we didn't. I just - I needed to talk to you. But I should've called, I'm sorry, I'll go now," Thomas rambled and he turned around to leave.

Mats caught his shoulder before he can walk out. "Nah, that's okay, I'll go. I have some paperwork to do, anyway," he said with an easy smile. Manu looked disappointed but the young officer kissed him chastely and muttered something in the blond's ear and Manu's eyes widened before he start to blush crimson.

Mats winked at him and ruffled Thomas' hair as he walked out.

Manu looked at Thomas, quickly inspecting his face before pulling him into a hug.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

 

"I fucked up. Again."


	8. Seven: Manu

Manu glanced at his watch. A quarter to eight. He sighed as he entered the coffee shop.

"Hey, Loverboy. Your date is waiting for you on table six," Bastian greeted him cheerfully. Manu muttered a thank you and walked toward the table. Mats is sipping his coffee and staring out of the window.

He smiled at Manu as the taller man approached him. The blond leaned in for a kiss and Mats obliged happily. "So sorry I'm late," he said as he sat down."Thomas needed me." Mats pursed his lips at that. "He always comes first, right?" Mats joked, a hint of bitterness on his voice.

"Look, Mats," Manu started. "I like you. A lot. Too much even." He blushed slightly. "But Thomas - Thomas is family and  _family_   comes first." Mats lifted a hand and traced his cheekbone. "I understand," he said softly. "But sometimes I want to be selfish and have you all to myself."

Manu's cheek started to blush under the younger man's hand. "You're really really corny," he managed to say. Mats laughed. "Can't help it. You're really adorable when you blush."

Manu rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna get something to drink. Do you want anything?" Mats shrugged. "Nah. Just you," he replied.

He walked to the counter. "Hey, Jule," he greeted. Julian just flashed him a smile before going back to reading his textbook. "Basti already had your usual on standby and a cheesecake, on the house," he said. "But tips are greatly appreciated." Manu smiled and put a couple bills on the jar. "Where's Basti, anyway?" Julian's ears turned pink."He's um, he's with Poldi. In the kitchen." Manu wanted to ask, but looking at Julian's expression he decided against it.

Manu grabbed his usual black coffee and the cheesecake and headed back to the table.

Mats is typing a message on his phone and he quickly put it away when he saw the blond. "What's that?" Manu smiled happily. "Basti gave us a free cheesecake. Here, I grabbed two spoons. You like cakes, right?" Then Manu saw what looks to be an awry smile, but it went away so fast Manu thought he must've imagined it.

They stayed there for a while, talking. Well, Mats talked, Manu listened intently, getting lost in Mats' smile and those deep brown eyes. His hands played with Mats', tracing the lines on his palm. Manu didn't realize that Mats had stopped talking, and when he did, he raised an eyebrow. "What?" Mats just shook his head and then flashed a grin [and if it made Manu's heart beat twice as fast no one has to know].

"We should head back, it's late," Mats said. "And poor Jule almost passed out on the counter." They both glanced at the young boy, eyes half-opened, staring blankly at his textbook. Manu chuckled. "If only Thomas was half as diligent as this one it would save us a whole lot of problem."

Mats put his arm around the taller man's shoulder as they walked away from the table. "True," he said. "But it lead me to you, didn't it?"

Manu felt his cheeks warmed at that. "Again. Corny."

The officer laughed and dropped his arm from the other's shoulder, only to slip his hand into Manu's.

They said goodbye to Julian and exited the coffee shop, walking to Mats' car in silence. When they reached it, Mats leaned on the car, hand still holding Manu's and he looked at them intently.

"You have nice hands," he commented. Manu rolled his eyes playfully. "Just my hands? To be honest, I'm a little disappointed," he retorted.

"Well, not  _just_   your hands." Manu turned around, a snarky comment in thought, but then Mats' lips met his and he forget everything apart from how Mats felt on his mouth. He whimpered when Mats bite his lips and slide his tongue into his. _  
_

Really, he as not responsible for the sounds that came out of his mouth, especially when Mats pinned him to the car and his hands started to travel south.

Manu finally regained some sense on his brain and pulled away.

"What's wrong?" Mats asked.  _Fuck_  he looks gorgeous. His pupils blown and his lips bitten-red. His dark curls are messy from where the blond ran his fingers through it. Manu felt a warm tingle in his heart knowing that he was the one that did this. _  
_

"Nothing, nothing's wrong. I just..." His voice trailed off. Mats raised an eyebrow. "Not - not like this," Manu said.

Mats chuckled and kiss him again, softly this time. "I understand," he said. "Now, are you sure you don't want me to drive you back? It'll only take five minutes." Manu shook his head. "I don't think that's wise, Officer," he replied. "I don't think I can hold myself back this time."

Mats rolled his eyes and kissed his cheek.

"Well, maybe," he said as he opened his car door. "You should let go sometimes,  _Ducky_."

Manu just smiled in return. "Good night, Hummels."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whee, another chapter! Are y'all excited for the game tonight? I am.  
> I'm on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/acciothirteen) if you wanna say hi :)
> 
> coughs chapter nine is coming very, very soon coughs


	9. Eight: Marco

It was around 8 pm when Marco walked in the apartment, sporting a couple of fresh hickeys on his neck under his scarf. The TV in the living room was playing old reruns of Spongebob Squarepants.  _Oh no_.

"Marcooo!"

Thomas leaped off the couch and straight into Marco's arms, sending them both to the ground. "Damn it, Thomas, what the fuck?" Marco cursed. "The hell is going on? It's not even that late yet - I'm calling Manu."

Before he can manage to press any button on his phone, Thomas snatched it. "No, please," he pleaded. "I already talked to him this afternoon, and I don't want to worry him."

Marco cursed his roommate's goddamn puppy eyes and gave in. He'd been hanging out with Manu for way too long. "Oh, alright. Tell me, then. What's up? Do I need to get drunk to hear it?" Thomas shrugged. "Long story. Here." Thomas passed him a bottle of beer.

As Thomas started his story, Marco began to chug. Thomas can really tell a story, he gave him that. But - "Dude, are you making this up?" he asked and reached for another bottle.

Thomas rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "No, why would I do that?" His words are slurred at this point. "How in the ever-loving _fuck_   am I supposed to survive a while year in that class? And no," he continued when Marco opened his mouth. "I can't switch because it's too late and fucking Fips said, 'Miro's a good teacher, maybe he'll teach you how to control your attitude,'" Thomas said, mocking Fips' tone. Marco found it hilarious in his semi-drunken state.

Something bugged him, though. The name Miro sounded familiar. He tried to recall where he had heard it, but nothing.

Thomas let out a dramatic sigh and Marco patted his back sympathetically.

"Enough about me, though, what about you?" the younger one said suddenly. "How was your date? And spare me the explicit details, please, I don't have the stomach for it." Marco blushed slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about." Thomas rolled his eyes. "Please. I know that's now your sweater. And that scarf is as red as your hair, ergo, that is not yours and you're trying to hide those big-ass hickeys."

Marco's ears turned pink. "That obvious, huh?" He slowly unwrapped the scarf from his neck. "Holy shit," Thomas gasped. "Those are the size of the UK!"

The blond laughed softly and lightly traced the outline of the purple-ish skin. "It was good. We went to the carnival. Met this super hot single dad and his twins. Went back to Sunny's - Mario's - place. Made out. Sleep. The usual." He grinned."Sunny's an excellent kisser by the way, and his hands are really -"

"Oh, god, stop," Thomas pleaded. "Wait, didn't he live in the dorm? Shouldn't he have a roommate?" Marco blushed a dark shade of red. "Uh, he does. And said roommate might've caught us in some incriminating position. His face went redder than my hair and he practically leaped out of the room. He was pretty cute, though, in case you're wondering."

"I wasn't but thanks, anyway," Thomas replied. Marco thought he saw a glimpse of sadness in those usually cheerful eyes but it was gone in a flash.

 

"You know what we should do?" he said suddenly. "We should have a water pistol war."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this came out later than expected, sorry about that  
> also this one is short but the next one is going to be fun, i promise
> 
> HAPPY HOLIDAYS!


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